


Prompt #7 (90-Prompt Challenge)

by GlitterBombLove



Series: Prompts - 90 Challenge [7]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Fantasy, Flash Fic, Prompt Fic, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:55:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28143477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlitterBombLove/pseuds/GlitterBombLove
Summary: Prompt #7 (90-Prompt Challenge)Genre: FantasyDecember 18, 2020Prompt Idea: IntermissionSource: Original
Series: Prompts - 90 Challenge [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2052597





	Prompt #7 (90-Prompt Challenge)

We were the only girls in the fight pit. 

The guards shoved us out to perk up the crowd. We came after the real fighters and criminals, heavily muscled and clad in heavy armor and helmets and weapons, battled for their lives in the stadium before the blood-thirsty crowds. It was only after most of the serious contenders were killed, and the crowd lulled and grew numb to the gore that we were thrown out into the arena. 

We were the novelty act. The audience reacted in a frenzy by leering, cheering and gasping in dread over the six frail girls shivering and vulnerable in the fight pit. It was hypnotic entertainment - violent and brutal and delicious.

Four of the girls clung to each other in tight cluster. Some were crying and blubbering. The guards told us to start running to the opposite end of the field without being slaughtered. None of us held weapons, unless bouquets of roses count. We were barefoot and dressed in gauzy slips exposing most of our legs and arms. The promoters were thoughtful enough to twine flowers in our hair, adorn our heads with crowns of flowers and rouge our cheeks and mouths. The message was clear. We had no chance of surviving. We were to keep the crowd's interest so the real fighters could rest and then finish the battle. 

Our job was to simply die pretty.


End file.
